Draco Malfoy and the Hair Loss Extravaganza
by slaughtergirl
Summary: This is what you get when you cross Draco Malfoy with a random idea! No offence meant to Draco or Harry Potter....who is the best....grovel, grovel, grovel....


This epic tale was loosely inspired by my brother, who cleverly devised a rather downright mindless plot; that is if you consider freak hair loss a bona fide 'plot'.

Disclaimer:

I, slaughtergirl, solemnly swear that I do not own the Harry Potter dynasty in any form, shape or given code name. I just own the rights to my mind, and given the sheer quality of this fanfic, I'm absolutely in no doubt what so ever that those rights are under any given threat.

**Not a singled hair on Draco's head was harmed in the making of this fanfic!**

The yarn continues (or starts)...?...

Draco Malfoy gazed somewhat affectionately at his rather stunning reflection in one of the many Malfoy manors' numerous magnificent and strikingly intricate gold-plated mirrors; unfortunately they were not solid gold as they had once been, this was a direct cause of the utter stupidity of the Malfoy's of ten generations ago!

They had dim-wittingly lost all of their 'black' fortune in a bad-ass wizard chess game, against none other than Nicholas Flamel and Merlin himself, and in order to re-establish their grandiose fortune they had needed to extract all the gold from their precious items in exchange for that once again magnificently flowing golden river of mythical gallons. This gold rampage had not only included the mirrors of the manor, but their many well equipped chamber pots (as the Malfoy's had a severe genetic history of weak bladder-syndrome) and of course from their full-blooded gold bed rests.

Draco loved these venerable gold plated mirrors so much that he vowed with all the full-blooded, non-mixed, pure, clean, phobia of being seen with a mudblood blood that he possessed, too make them truly solid gold once again and be forever praised amongst the inner circle of Malfoyiness as the most sacred man of gold.

These voluptuous mirror's gave Draco the shivers ever time he gently stroked its multifarious framework; he loved gazing at these mirror's from his pureblood grey eyes. The mirror's relentlessly made him instantaneously whip out his comb and brush his dazzling mane of platinum blond hair, even putting _the __Fonz_ to shame.

But alas, Draco had most offensively been cruelly separated from the hair on his beloved head, in one swiftly wicked act of unsaintly punishment. This waxing of the head had been distributed from Lord You-Know-The-One-Who-Couldn't-Kill-Harry-Potter. Draco's head was now as shiny as a cauldron bottom, magically stripped of its nutrient bound mane, and coldheartedly morphed into a barren, but shiny, wasteland.

Draco's love for his alluring blond hair extended so far that in order to compensate for this loss that was worthy of _Bram Stoker's_ _Dracula_, he had vowed to grow hair on and in any part of his body that was wizardly possible.

Draco lovingly pressed the mirror against his now floor length beard and, with an equal sense of emotion found a gold plated brush and commenced his ritual four times a day 'combing of the hair'. This revered ceremony took him on a journey from his almost non-existent eyebrows all the way down to his tough but surprisingly minty fresh toe hair. Draco finished his marvellous livelihood and ogled once again at that breathtakingly superb gold plated mirror that graced his latrine.

At the exact same moment Draco had an epiphany, he had just realised that his name was rather sexy. Draco, Draco, Draco... how he loved his name! The way the profound possessiveness of the D morphed fluently into the R, which in turn created a deep and rather erotic rolling resonance. He was mesmerised by the way the A heightened the intensity of the surrounding atmosphere, bringing the lips to an all climatic moment but only momentarily before the C stole the show, laying the foundations for that invigorating O, which completed the anecdote in one sensual coo.

DRACO was quivering all over, he had never felt this amount of passion boiling in his pure-blood before, electric sparks ricocheted off every organ inside him, and in one desperate attempt to calm his mannish urges, he took hold of his beloved gold plated mirror and tugged on it with such force that it tore off the wall without a second thought, that had it not been for its anti-shatter charm, unquestionably it would have shattered into an inestimable amount of pieces.

Draco gave that mirror so much love that even _Barry White_ would have been jealous and in a rather disturbing turn of events he proposed to Mirror. Draco loved Mirror so much that in a moment of musical crescendo, he gave his upmost pureblood word to restore her to her former glory, meaning that he would make her once again PURE gold and kill Harry Potter. Even though the overdue murdering of Harry Potter really had nothing to do with restoring his future wife, he has added this one to his bounty as an afterthought because after all, what ostensibly random fanfic involving him wouldn't involve his unhealthy, almost passionate obsession with Harry Potter.

REVIEW time...and to all you flamer throwers out there...I will use them to...er...do something awful to you...er...Mwahahahaha-ha...er...ha...?...

Slaughtergirl


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